PS 3519 
.032 P6 
Copy 1 



Pc 





Pass V^ -sJ 
Book . fo g ^ft 



THE POET WILDEY AND 
HIS POEM 

An Address 



BITS OF VERSE 



Brother of mine, your hand! your hand! 
And with the hand your heart ; 
For Love is King, let its word impart 
Strength to your soul in the jostling mart. 

Your hand ! In friendship your hand! 

Ah ! God is Love, and Love is King, 
And Love rules over all ; 
O, will ye not heed the warning call : — 
Crowd not your brother -man to the wall ! 

Love him ! For Love is King! 

Friendship and Love are born of Truth, 
Truth is the heart's desire. 
E'en though you burn with consuming fire, 
Speak, for your soul is wafted higher ! 

Live Friendship, Love and Truth ! 




CHARLES E. JACKSON 



THE POET WILDEY 
AND HIS POEM 

AN ADDRESS 

AND BITS OF VERSE 



BY 

CHARLES E. JACKSON 



PORTLAND, ME. 
SMITH & SALE, PUBLISHERS 



AUTHOR'S EDITION 






COPYRIGHT 1907 

BY 
SMITH & SALE 



J\ , 0^4, 1, i _ A-ec. //- / <r ••) 



0% Port Wiltog nnb Iffta $0*m 

AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE GRAND 

LODGE, I. O. O. F., OF MAINE 

OCTOBER 20, I903 

TOGETHER WITH A FEW ATTEMPTS AT VERSE 

THE ADDRESS IS DEDICATED 

TO THE GREAT FRATERNITY OF ODD FELLOWS 

WITH WHOM I HAVE BEEN AGREEABLY 

ASSOCIATED THESE MANY YEARS 



Stye ^0^ma 



CRUDE AND COMMONPLACE AS I KNOW THEM TO BE 

I DEDICATE TO HER 

WHO, CALM AS THE SUNNIEST DAY IN JUNE 

HAS TRANQUILIZED MY LIFE 

/ know of one unselfish life, 

Brimful of love and sympathy : 
Since thought and love are due thee, wife, 

My verse is thine unwittingly. 



CONTENTS 



The Poet Wildey and His 


Poem 


. 3 


Bits of Verse : 






Invocation 




. 19 


My Little Fellow 




. 20 


My Life Pilgrimage . 




. 21 


George W. Marston 




. 22 


Dedicatory Poem 




. 23 


Two Singers 




. 25 


The Conflict 




. 26 


The Still Small Voice 




. 27 


The Passing Day 




. 28 


To Work . . ' . 




. 29 


In May . 




. 30 


Good Morning, Robin 




. 31 


Oriole 




. 32 


The Bluebird 




. 33 


To the Mayflower 




. 34 



Vll 



CONTENTS 






PAGE 


Faith 


. 35 


The Little Seed 


. 36 


November . 


. 37 


Trust .... 


. 38 


To Hermann Kotzschmar . 


. 39 


Alpha and Omega 


. 40 


The Father and His Child 


. 41 


A Touch of Nature . 


. 42 


Baby .... 


. 43 


Sunset .... 


. 44 


Impulse .... 


. 45 


Life 


. 46 


The First Snow Fall . 


. 47 


Soliloquy .... 


. 49 



Vlll 



THE POET WILDEY AND 
HIS POEM 

An Address 



This address was originally given, by 
invitation, before the members of the 
Grand Lodge, I. O. O. F., of Maine. 
The author, feeling that it would be 
ungracious to further resist the repeated 
urgings of friends, has consented to the 
publication of a limited edition. The 
poems are included with the hope that 
they will not be found wholly devoid of 
merit. 




THE POET WILDEY AND 
HIS POEM 



EVERY life in its purity and power, is 
the realisation, more or less complete, 
of some ideal which the mind has ever 
kept in view. We feel that the things which 
make us what we are, — qualities of mind 
and heart and will, — have come to us from 
some larger and grander source. We feel 
that the art of living involves intention, 
direction and persistence, governed by an 
inborn decision to work up the raw material 
of our lives into something finer than they 
otherwise would have been, — infusing into 
life, something that we feel the soul shares 
with God and with kindred souls. 

And it is this attitude of heart and mind, 
which, spiritualizing man, lifts him out of 
his selfishness, — it is this phase of life which 
the world is beginning to understand as 



THE POET WILDEY AND HIS POEM 

representing true poetry, not alone something 
written in merely rythmical, imaginative 
language, but something deeper, fuller and 
more complete; something that rises im- 
measurably above the grandeur of the spoken 
word as it finds expression in the humanities 
of the race. For if we hold that the present 
life is the preparation for a larger and more 
complete existence, — if we hold that, I say, 
then every agency, power and faculty that 
develops man into a sympathetic and truth- 
ful being, is an expression of the highest 
kind of poetry. 

Viewed by this standard, Thomas Wildey 
becomes a poet, and that genuine baptism 
of human sympathy, — Odd Fellowship, be- 
comes a poem, — an epic, if you please, and 
one of the noblest and most complete ever 
written by man. Oh, Brothers, take from 
the mind all that imagination adorns and 
fancy paints, and the grandest powers of our 
being are well nigh palsied; on the other 
hand the mission of the true man in this 
world is to dignify and uplift life, thus all 
grand, helpful, trusting, loving souls through- 
out the ages have been poets and the real- 
isation of their dreams is poetry. 



AN ADDRESS 

A poet is born. And lo, with Moses 
came a conscience to the world. A poet is 
born. And Galilee and Olivet are firmly 
fixed upon the human heart, and love at last 
has risen above mere name. A poet is born. 
And see, with wondering awe, the world 
beholds the patient Washington at Valley 
Forge. A poet is born. And after many 
weary days and sleepless nights, the sainted 
Lincoln breaks the shackles which bind 
four millions of his fellow men in chains. 
A poet is born. And lo, the toiling black- 
smith, Thomas Wildey, bared his strong 
right arm, and as he welded iron bands he 
dreamed of welding human hearts. 

Thomas Wildey was a stranger to these 
shores. The war of 1812 had just been 
fought. The land he left and the land he 
sought had been at strife. A stranger in a 
strange land, he found few friends. The 
poetic instinct possessed him. Thomas 
Wildey lacked and Thomas Wildey craved 
the sympathy of men. In his great heart, 
so filled with love, there was no room for 
hate. 

As forge and anvil sang the songs of 
honest toil, he saw humanity in need, and 



THE POET WILDEY AND HIS POEM 

his great heart warmed with pity toward 
mankind. His was a bold, audacious plan, 
it took within its scope all human needs. 
His word became not " sounding brass or 
tinkling cymbal," his was no idle wish; 
Odd Fellowship became a stern, imperative 
demand. "That ye visit the sick, relieve 
the distressed, bury the dead, and educate 
the orphan " are backed by all the force and 
strength of a command. Emblazoned upon 
every charter, in every lodge room, the wide 
world over, you find those splendid words. 
And as this brave man toiled and struggled, 
small men sneered. Men so obtuse, who 
while they claimed to follow in the foot- 
steps of Him who had no place to lay His 
head, condemned Wildey's plan unheard. 

Wildey made practical the teachings of 
his Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. " Inas- 
much as ye have done it unto the least of 
these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me" 
became no longer idle words. Through all 
the dreamy, shadowy, small beginnings of 
his work his faith stood firm. He had a 
strong abiding trust in God ; he also knew 
the natural dignity of man. He knew that 
man at best was God's own image. He 



AN ADDRESS 

did not find the worth of man as men weigh 
coal. He did not measure men like cloth. 
He saw right through the rough, begrimmed 
and sweating form, a soul as sweet and true 
as ever God had placed upon the earth. 
And as he looked into an honest toiler's 
face, he saw reflected there, his home, his 
wife, his child, — love infinite — supreme. 
Of all the syllables that ever sprang to 
human lips, the sweetest word is home. 
Home shields a thousand little kindnesses 
that publicity profanes. And so to Wildey's 
all embracing mind came visions of a larger 
home, — a quiet home, — a trusting home, — 
a home, a lodge, where men could meet their 
brother men m joy and peace. Firmly he 
grasped those two great truths : the Father- 
hood of God and the brotherhood of man, 
and he knew that whenever they abode 
within the lives of men, God's kingdom 
came to earth. He knew that where love 
reigned were joy and peace. He knew that 
selfishness could find no place at any true 
domestic hearth. He knew that hunger and 
abundance were never seen there side by side. 
He knew that the old and the young, those 
who could no longer, and those who could 



THE POET WILDEY AND HIS POEM 

not yet support fatigue were alike sharers 
with him whose face was dripping with the 
sweat of honest toil. And so as he dreamed 
and planned, he embodied into the Order's 
great influence, the spirit of the home. And, 
Brothers, Odd Fellowship truly stands for 
home. It is a protection against man's 
possible failure to make a success of life. 
It shields man, not by sentimentalities, but 
by substantial aid. Not by precept, but by 
practice : not by words, but by works. 

"Is he not after all my brother?" are 
words that sink deep into human hearts. 
We never know until we try to reach men 
how accessible they are. There are thou- 
sands of men, strangers to themselves, — 
men hiding in the ravines of selfishness, — 
struggling in the thickets of vice, — wounded 
by their own false pride; — men lying all 
but helpless on the battle-field of life, who 
in and of their own strength fail, but who 
with healing, care and consolation from 
those who are stronger, or perhaps whose 
lot was cast in pleasanter places, are able 
and do give to them lasting good. This, 
Brothers, is the essence, — this is the true 
spirit of Odd Fellowship. 

8 



AN ADDRESS 

In the Gospel of St. John you will find 
these simple words: — "And Andrew found 
Simon Peter, his brother, and brought him 
to Jesus." That simple statement is all the 
record preserved of that man, — Andrew's 
life. Yet between the covers of that book 
so rich in human experience, there is no 
more impressive biography than is contained 
in those few simple words. Hundreds of 
men have dazzled the world with wit, 
whose lives were barren waste compared 
with this man's life. He influenced men. 
He could not preach, he could not sway a 
multitude, but in his extremity, he found 
an obscure man who could. 

If the work of Wildey had never meant 
another thing than give the world James 
Ridgely, the influence of his life were in- 
cense sweet indeed. The cultured Ridgely 
took that still unfinished but grand and 
simple statue of Odd Fellowship and chisled 
it into the almost perfect thing it is. Ah! 
my Brothers, if there be any man who 
should so far insult his own intelligence as 
to deny the existence and power of Almighty 
God, let him turn to the tear-stained bloody 
pages of history and note how strangely 



THE POET WILDEY AND HIS POEM 

some men have been chosen to perform a 
certain line of work. In every crisis the 
right man has appeared. This, of itself, is 
proof enough for me of the existence and 
power of Almighty God. 

Yes, Brothers, catalogue, if you will, all 
the unthinking men who toil only to satisfy 
their ambition for greed and gain, — who 
ride rough-shod over all the finer feelings 
of humanity, — whose only love is love of 
self, — sneering, unimaginative men! Cata- 
logue them, I say, but let us not forget to 
make a list of those great souls who hunger 
and thirst after righteousness, — men who 
are wearing themselves out in the world's 
great work; men who believe that knowl- 
edge is better than much choice gold, — that 
wisdom is better than rubies, — that life is 
worth more than meat; men whose hearts 
beat in unison with the world's great heart. 
Such are the men who founded, such are 
the men who sustain Odd Fellowship. 

And, Brothers, another thought, a patri- 
otic thought, Odd Fellowship as understood 
by us is thoroughly American in spirit and 
effect. No need to trace the annals of 
antiquity to find its origin. There is no 

10 



AN ADDRESS 

other lodge influence in it. It is the Inde- 
pendent Order of Odd Fellows, or if you 
like the term better, American Odd Fellow- 
ship. 

Born in the days of the Nation's early 
life, it imbibes the spirit of those times. It 
was the first fraternal organization to estab- 
lish absolute equality among its members. 
It breathes the very air of independence. 
Like every other thing American, it was and 
is progressive in its character ; for while the 
old and young, the rich and poor, all pay 
alike to its support, all share alike its bene- 
fits, yet beyond its business features, the 
sweetest charity is constantly maintained. 

The beginnings of Odd Fellowship were 
extremely modest. It began with simple 
relief, but it has grown to be a factor in the 
great world's life. The establishment of 
schools and homes attest its power for good. 
It teaches the well known trinity of Friend- 
ship, Love and Truth. It teaches Faith, 
Hope and Trust, yet ever woven through 
the whole vast fabric are golden threads of 
charity that gleam and glisten as the Order's 
mantle falls upon the world's great needs. 
Again it teaches true democracy. To be a 

11 



THE POET WILDEY AND HIS POEM 

Noble Grand a man must earn the place. 
To reach the station of a Vice Grand even, 
he must have worked his way. And con- 
gressmen and senators and judges have laid 
aside the cares of state, and given to man- 
kind this humble, yet exalted service. And 
when a President of the United States, whose 
power took rank with that of any ruler 
on the earth, laid down the cares of state, 
when President Hayes returned to live again 
among his neighbors and his friends, and in 
that true spirit of democracy which crowns 
our American life, worked his way humbly 
through the chairs of his Odd Fellow lodge, 
he dignified humanity, he dignified his lodge, 
yes, more than that, he dignified the high 
office of President of the United States. 

And now, Brothers, I return to my first 
thought, and remind you that not all whom 
the world has been pleased to call its great 
men have been poets. Some men, filled 
only with personal ambition, sought glory, — 
men of splendid talents, yet whose lives 
were the embodiment of selfishness and 
greed, — men who set at defiance all the 
principles of love, justice and mercy, and 
utterly failed to accomplish even what their 

12 



AN ADDRESS 

own foolish ambition had willed. "But 
yesterday the word of Caesar might have 
stood against the world, now none so poor 
to do him reverence." But yesterday 
Napoleon by the might of his majestic will 
defied the whole of Europe, — the morrow 
brought him St. Helena filled with blasted 
hopes. 

These men sought glory. Their aim in 
life was simply self. They never stopped 
to think of widows' or of orphans' tears, it 
was glory ! glory ! glory ! For what, I ask, 
have all the noble men and women worked ? 
Think ye for glory ? Was it for glory that 
Luther stood against the greatest of his 
time ? Was it for glory that Warren fought 
and fell at Bunker Hill? Was it for glory 
that Garrison and Philipps hurled their 
matchless words, and Lincoln gave his 
sleepless nights which finally led him to 
a martyr's death ? Glory ! Glory ! Oh, 
Brothers, there is no glory save the glory 
of God, and all the tireless workers, the 
dreamers, the poets throughout the ages 
have contributed toward that glory. 

Thomas Wildey's closing days were sun- 
shine bright indeed. He had lived his life 

13 



THE POET WILDEY AND HIS POEM 

for others, and when that fearful shadow- 
swept across the land, when the civil war 
broke out, when brothers' hands were raised 
to strike a brother, this noble man, whose 
life had stood for brotherhood, — this loving 
soul whose heart recoiled at strife, — like a 
full, ripe shock of grain, and in the dim- 
ming twilight of his years, and at that 
season of the year when the husbandman 
gathers the fruits of his labors into barns, 
Thomas Wildey was gathered to the 
Father's. 

Fourscore years he had walked the earth, 
ministering and to bless. Death came to 
Wildey in the city of Baltimore, October 
19, 1861, where forty-three years before he 
lay the foundations for this vast brother- 
hood. When his flickering light went out, 
millions mourned. When his light went 
out? No, Brothers ! the light grows brighter 
day by day, such men never die. The 
lodges that you represent, and thousands of 
others with their hundreds of thousands 
of willing messengers, running errands of 
mercy, tell us that the spirit of Thomas 
Wildey still lives. Oh, my Brothers, put 
your hand upon your pulse and know that 

14 



AN ADDRESS 

with every throbbing beat, the Order pays 
out in revenue enough to sustain a family 
for the entire day. Think of it, eleven 
dollars a minute, every minute in the day 
and every day in the year, streaming out 
into the channels of relief. Yet who would 
dare to make the claim that cold statistics 
tell the story of the institution's worth ? I 
am talking to Odd Fellows, and there are 
those among you who know from experi- 
ence what it means to stand at the bedside 
of the dying, sincerely mourning a brother 
and a friend. You know what it means to 
look into the faces of the dear ones thus 
bereft, where the very silence was oppress- 
ive, yet no one dared to speak. 

Oh, my Brothers, a mightier hand than 
ours turns with pitiless regularity the pages 
of our book of life. We are living in an 
earnest, busy, bustling age; living in the 
grandest country upon the top of God's 
green earth, for whatever pessimists may 
say it is a privilege to be a citizen of the 
United States, — a country whose liberties 
are assured ; a country whose pulsing arm 
is capable of striking down all foes, — the 
tread of whose armies makes the solid earth 

15 



THE POET WILDEY AND HIS POEM 

to tremble and the might of whose navies 
are acknowledged upon every sea. Yet, 
Brothers, I make bold the claim that it is by 
far a grander privilege to belong to this vast 
brotherhood whose influence is ever exerted 
to fraternize the world. For as the star of 
Bethlehem led the wise men to the cradle 
of their Redeemer, so will the star of 
friendship lead mankind to universal peace. 




BITS OF VERSE 




INVOCATION 

FATHER in Heaven, 
Be near, I pray, while my frail bark is 
gliding 
Adown life's stream; the current's swift that's bearing 
me along; 
Thou see'st dangers 'neath the surface hiding. 
Hard have I striven, 
Thou King of kings, to shape my course with Thine 
from conscious wrong. 

Father in Heaven, 
I pray my heart be stayed on Thee forever, 
Each wish be lifted up to Thee, Thou mighty King 
of Love, 
And faith that seeth Thee in all endeavor 
To me be given ! 
Lord, God ! 'tis my desire to blend my will with Thine 
above. 



19 



w 



MY LITTLE FELLOW 

HO runs to greet me home at night, 
And makes my weary day seem bright, 
And hails my presence with delight ? 

My little fellow. 



Who is it, when his eyes half close, 
Strives hard to cheat well-earned repose, 
Unwillingly to bed he goes ? 
My little fellow. 

Who is it, at the peep of day — 
When, O how good in bed to stay ! — 
Says : " Take me, Parp, I want to play ? " 
My little fellow. 

Ah, may thy cares be ever mine, 
And my love, interlinked with thine, 
With ever-growing lustre shine, 
Thou little fellow ! 

And when my head is framed in white, 
And life with me approaches night, 
On Memory's page thou' It still shine bright, 
My little fellow. 



20 



MY LIFE PILGRIMAGE 

O'ER desert drear, through grassy plain, 
The path leads on 'neath changing skies; 
' Mid burning heat or cooling rain 
I plod along — ne'er back again. 

Light, Lord, by faith my anxious eyes. 

Maybe I near my earth-life's span 
And soon shall pause for final rest; 

Press on then, Soul, strive whil'st thou can, 
For life, not death, should be thy quest; 

Lose self and find a grander man. 



21 



GEORGE W. MARSTON 

DEAD ! No ! he lives ! His melodies are ringing,- 
His soul-inspiring songs the world is singing. 
Though his loved form has vanished from the 
earth, 
His spirit hovers o'er us — round the hearth, 
His pure soul made faith seem a little clearer; 
He drew men to their God, a little nearer. 
His was a triumph o'er the spectre grim. 
Weep for the friends bereft, weep not for him. 



22 



DEDICATORY POEM 1 

FATHER, whose mercy gleams through allj 
Thy name we bless, Thy name we call ! 
Ours not to boast of victory. 
Ours but the humble ministry; 

Ours but the youth-time work begun, 
The glow of morn, not setting sun. 
O Father ! in this glorious hour 
Reveal to us our strength and power ! 

'Tis not by skill which art can show 
Where softened tinted windows throw 
Strange light into the chancel dim, 
Picturing saint and cherubim; 

Nor boasting pride in human things, 
Nor kingdoms patronized by kings ! 
Ah! nearer to Thy heart are laid 
The suppliant prayers the poor have made; 

Lord, God ! we come with willing feet, 
And bend before Thy mercy seat, 
And wonder not; 'tis holy ground 
Where Light Eternal beams around. 

What soul could step to yonder wood, 
And resting in its solitude, 
And hearing bird-song fill the air, 
Could doubt a holy presence there ? 

Or who could upward look in night 
To where the million worlds gleam bright, 
And think the all-wise loving Mind 
Could be in any space confined ? 

i Read at dedication of North Deering Church. 

23 



None, gracious Lord ! Thy generous hand 
Doth scatter what Thy wisdom planned; 
Whilst all that charms the lonely thought 
Comes to us with Thy blessing fraught. 

Yet somehow, souls the stronger feel 
When each dependent child doth kneel 
To claim his blessings from above, 
Receiving light in trusting love. 

And Love has bid this building rise, 
May it grow holy in our eyes ! 
May that grand influence light the shrine, 
Which bears the impress of Divine ! 

That Love which charity bestows; 
That Love which sorrows for all woes 
And weeps with mourners o'er the dead, 
May Love Divine its radiance shed ! 

Lord, God ! in whom we live and move, 
And daily Thy rich blessings prove, 
This house we dedicate to thee ! 
May souls here find tranquillity ! 

And this is yours who seek the good, 
Firm children of God's Fatherhood ! 
The goodliest gift the heart can make, 
Baptized in God's great blessing, — take. 



24 



o 



TWO SINGERS 

NE labored long with patient thought, 
Then sang his song; 
The muse to him came not unsought, 
He wooed her long. 



The other from his subtle mind 
Flashed forth a strain; 

Songs came as free as summer wind 
From heart and brain. 

Both sang what human hearts desired, 
Words true and strong; 

His method hid, each seemed inspired 
To sing his song. 



25 



THE CONFLICT 

THOU demon Hate, hell-born, how earnest thou 
here — 
Here in a human soul, Love's rightful place ? 
Thy cruel, uncouth, devilish grimace 
Hath fearful look in his own atmosphere; 
Still Love dethroned and driven, hovereth near. 
Can mother pressing babe to breast efface 
What lieth hid behind her soft embrace ? 
Not thine to hide behind a single tear, 
O Love, who yet will blatant Hate destroy ! 
But, oh ! why was his shadow ever cast 
Across thy path ? Thou who wouldst fain employ 
Thy patient toil unto the very last 
To clear the heart of all its base alloy ! 
O soul, slay not the dearest friend thou hast ! 



26 



THE STILL SMALL VOICE 

OSOUL be still, and hear the voice revealed ! 
The song-bird breathes it through the notes 
he sings 
To cheer his silent dame, whose brooding wings 
Doth give her offspring all that love can yield. 
Come, hearken to those flowers that grace the field, 
And catch the glorious message each one brings; 
The voice is speaking from yon star that clings 
To its given space within the heavenly shield. 
Whenever hearts in sympathy are stirred, 
And men enrich their longing souls in prayer, 
The voice, so still, will give an answering word — 
The message is responsive everywhere; 
Be still then soul, and let the voice be heard, 
It bears the truth from realms divinely fair. 



27 



THE PASSING DAY 

WAS ever day more precious than this day ? 
Day born of God, created for man's use ? 
Why spurn its promise by thy vain excuse ? 
Block not ambition's path with thy delay, 
When trumpet calls be foremost in the fray. 
Be of decision prompt, when called to choose, 
Better defeat than active life refuse. 
Remember deeds more than thy words convey 
The inspiration that alone is thine. 
O Soul, be strong this day, strong in content; 
Say to thyself: "All life is linked with mine; 
All life is God's, and for a purpose lent, 
And I must work this day, work is divine." 
And love will tell thee what thy labor meant. 



28 



TO WORK 

AWAKE ! awake ! and greet the new-born day; 
With night now past lay all thy cares away. 
Yonder the rising sun in splendor gleams, 
'Tis time to act, away with idle dreams ! 
See opportunity's wide open gate — 
Pass through ere Time shall say to thee, " Too late ! " 
Courage is born of faith and lives in deeds; 
He who is filled with "Dare" and "Do" succeeds. 
Yes, though a thousand doubts encompass thee, 
The onward path leads straight to victory. 
Press on through toil and sweat of blazing noon; 
Time's flight will bring the cool of evening soon; 
Trudge on and on while yet the day shines bright; 
Swift pass the hours that bring returning night. 



29 



IN I 



o 


. n.L ~r~ . Tr 




w 








- 


- - — r : - f : 


I i_- : 


■ : :r .~ r - 


_ 


A— - v 






Sr^z 


- _ . 


r:::r_:.r_: 


I :t 




_ :5: - 7 - r - 


: tk 




:.^-r 


:.'-_.- 


h n 


~-r--i 



30 



GOOD MORNING, ROBIN 

ACROSS the lawn at early davm, 
He comes with tripping pace; 
His bearing pert, the little flirt, 
Embodiment of grace. 

Break ! break to hear ! O morning clear 

The redbreast's chirping call; 
He pipa a doe, '" How In jam i: ! 

Good morning, one and all." 



31 



ORIOLE 

WARBLE the strain again to me, — 
Cadence of love-lit melody; 
Warble the tune of laughing flowers, 
Orchard's bounty and sunny showers; 
Breathe once more to my listening ear 
The glorious sound of festal cheer; 
Gladly I' d linger the whole day long 
To hear thy heart pour forth its song; 
Sweet- voiced atom, with plumage gay, 
Carol the cares of life away. 



32 



THE BLUEBIRD 

THY little wings reflect the sky, 
Thy breast reflects the earth; 
Thy coming is a prophecy, 
Thy voice proclaims Spring's birth. 

Sing ! little songster, sing to me — 

Me, of the common sod; 
My soul gains strength because of thee 

Singing the praise of God. 



33 



TO THE MAYFLOWER 

DEAR little flower, why hide thy face ? 
Thy tender life doth fill its place 
As worthily as aught that grows. 
Thou art the harbinger of spring; 
Of flowers, thou first of all doth bring 
To me new life from 'neath the snows. 



34 



FAITH 

YES, I have faith; what though I fail to see 
With clearness all God hath in wisdom planned; 
God is ! Enough for me to understand 
That goodness reigns behind all mystery. 
Yes, I have faith. 

Yes, I have faith; for what hath been revealed 
But hints of greater things yet unfulfilled, 
Things that my longing soul hath wished and willed, 

Something I know doth live, though yet concealed. 
Yes, I have faith. 

Yes, I have faith; though night obscure my way, 
And, groping 'round, I sometimes lose the road; 
I've come thus far in trust and borne my load. 

Faith tells me night will soon give way to day. 
Yes, I have faith. 



35 



I 



THE LITTLE SEED 

HOLD within my hand this little mystery, 
It is so small it trembles at my lightest breath; 
Beneath its husk indeed lies power — infinity; 
For in its tiny form are hid Birth, Life and Death. 



36 



NOVEMBER 

I HEAR the sigh of trees that sway 
Their branches overhead; 
Their sad moan seems to tell that they 
Are filled with winter's dread. 
And everywhere earth shows decay — 
Grass, flowers, and leaves all dead. 
Think thou to claim me, gloomy day ? 
My heart is spring instead. 



37 



TRUST 



WILD is the night; the sea is lashed to foam; 
The furies of the storm disturb the deep. 
All through the din, as if it soothed to sleep, 
The sea gull 'neath the creviced rock finds home. 



What though I find my soul by cares distrest, 
What though life's path arouse my inmost fears, 
What though my eyes are dimmed with bitter tears, 

The bird doth strengthen faith; I'll calmly rest. 



38 



TO HERMANN KOTZSCHMAR 

May 14, 1903 

MUSICAL Portland !« musical indeed; 
Thanks be to thee, whose genius sowed the 
seed. 
To-night, through vistas garlanded with gold, 
Emblazoned clear, we see thy name enrolled. 
Young faces look in thine, and young hearts teach, 
Who owe their power to thy inspiring speech. 
Grand privilege thine, confronting all the years 
To live once more the hours thy heart endears. 
Again the morn of toil and joy and fret — 
Again youth's skies are bright with promise set — 
And later, manhood, with its fair renown, 
That won for thee the splendid laurel crown. 
Comrades ! a bumper to our President — 
And may his years be filled with sweet content; 
We pay him tribute — tribute but his due — 
Honor him, comrades, he has honored you. 



1 Subject of the paper read at annual meeting of Kotzschmar 
Club. 



39 



ALPHA AND OMEGA 

GOD breathed; and from the Eternal presence 
veiled, 
Sprang man ! all crowning mystery; — proud 
one; 
And then inhaled what He had once exhaled, 
The soul returns ! its brief, swift journey run. 



40 



THE FATHER AND HIS CHILD 

HE holds my love secure, fast friends are we, 
My little boy and I. 
The roguishness, the mischief, the activities 
Of his young life, but makes my love for him 
Still more intense. 

He who can think of God as aught but love — 

Stern, just, severe 
Has yet to know, in truth, a father's care. 
Look to thyself, thou art not more than God, 
He holds thee in His boundless love. Thy love 

Is human, His divine. 



41 



A TOUCH OF NATURE 

FROM a cleft in the rock a bit of earth 
From its own scant life gave a wee flower birth; 
And the flower drank sunshine and bathed in 
dew, 
And lifted its face toward the dome of blue; 
And of all the flowers, none more fond and true 
Than the lone one, sympathy drew me to. 
'Twas only a flower and a bit of earth, 
But, they yearned for God from the common dearth. 

Then, wondering I turned, from the better part, 
To a tenderer blossom, — a human heart. 
More frail, it contrasted the flower's grand trust; 
For, look ! how 'tis eaten by idle rust. 
Consumed by the heat of its own foul lust; 
See ! 'tis drooping amid its own dry dust. 
I woke from my muse with a sudden start, — 
I was reading my own unconquered heart. 



42 



BABY 

DID ever home know full content 
And radiance all around disclose 
'Till came that joy by angel's sent ? 
True love is found where baby goes. 

The heart that leaps when baby cries 
And folds the child in tenderness; 

Hath found the deep where true love lies — 
Close linked with babe in happiness. 



43 



SUNSET 

FOLDS of crimson and of gold 
Curtained 'gainst the sky of blue; 
Gorgeous scene mine eyes behold, 
Fading fast to sombre hue. 

Good-bye day, about to creep 

Through the shadows of the west; 

Night will lull a world to sleep, 
God grant all a peaceful rest. 



44 



IMPULSE 

OTHERS may quibble and plod along 
But I with my impulse run; 
Impulse is life, sudden thought is strong 
And would see new work begun; 
Brave child of truth it would give the lie 

To seeming truth before it; 
With the heart in tune suspicions die, 
A doubting mind ! — Ignore it. 



45 



LIFE 

A SOB ! a cry ! 
It is a babe, — a little life is born. 
A moan ! a sigh ! 
An aged man by want and pain is torn. 
Filled was the interval between 
With groping for the hand unseen. 
And ever rang those words, " Press on, 
Nor rest until thy journey's done." 
What then means life ? 
What then means death ? 
Turmoil and strife ? 
A fleeting breath ? 
Search thine own heart 
And thou wilt find a purpose planted there; 
Act well thy part 
And life will rise above a world of care. 



46 



THE FIRST SNOW FALL 



T 



RANSFORMATION since last night ! 
Nature dons a mantle white. 



Yesterday the leafless trees 
Seemed to feel the northern breeze; 

Now their white forms look serene 
As when gayly clothed in green. 

See the snowflakes dance and play, 
Backward, forward, on their way. 

Watch one flake, it seems to rise, 
Yet finds earth in glad surprise. 

See each branch and tiny spray 
Clad in their sublime array; 

See the path in yonder wood 
Latticed in its solitude — 

I bethought me in that hour, 

This from Him who tints the flower. 

This from Him who doth disclose 
All the sweetness of the rose. 

Thought I, He controls the spring, — 
All its glad awakening. 

Thought I of the summer days, 
Knee-deep grass and tangled maize. 

47 



Thought I of the autumn yield, 
Ripened harvest of the field. 

Now pure snowflakes at my feet 
Crown another year complete. 

Easy then for me to trace 
Goodness through the snowy lace. 



48 



SOLILOQUY 



OSOUL of mine, thou loftier part of self, 
From out thy tabernacle, deep from sight, 
What fancies and what pleasures yet undreamed 
Spring forth to bless and dignify my life ? 
The energies that touch my sluggish brain; 
That tune my heart above its outward sense, — 
Struggling and dreaming, ever up and on, 
O Soul, what means our vague existence here ? 
How cam' st thou to this crude house formed of clay ? 
For parents never yielded thee to me. 
All that I am thou art, yet strangely real 
Another force controls, — a mighty force — 
Despotic Will has power to crush or raise; 
To bid thee walk with God, or quench thy light, — 
To live amid the glories of the world, 
Or sink to nothingness, — a fallen star. 
What then avails exertion ? What the toil 
Of high ambition struggling for the van ? 
The winner pays the forfeit with his life; 
Time places her strong chain upon his heel 
And trips him when he panteth near his goal, 
Or maybe checks him ere the race begins. 
What motive then has power to lead thee on ? 
What bids all grumbling cease, turns sighs to song, 
And maketh for thy feet a path of peace ? 
What prompts the zeal of study, bringing home 



49 



To thy stern court, O sovereign Memory, 
The pictured life and light of other days, — 
Filling the brain with rules to spur it on ? 
O Memory ! thy power so strange doth make 
My yesterdays more real than to-day; — 
With thee, a backward glance, — I plainly see 
The winding path through which I've wondering 

passed. 
What of that greatest power of all, that fire 
Which shoots forth tongues of flame, — imagination; 
That power contented not with things that are, 
But every instant starting new creations. 
What am I and who am I ? questions these 
Mankind has asked through all the ages past. 




OCT 23 I90<« 



CONGRESS, 






